


Promises Made in the Dark

by msraven



Series: Covenant [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Clint Needs a Hug, Episode: s01e11 The Magical Place, General spoilers, M/M, Memory Loss, Pheels, Phil Needs a Hug, Secret Relationship, post-ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msraven/pseuds/msraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Three minutes ago, I would have told you that a dead man walking into your apartment and yelling at you for no reason was impossible.</i>
</p><p>Sometimes, you have to create a bigger mess before you can begin to fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises Made in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the always amazing kultiras for being patient with me until I fixed this thing. ♥
> 
> A fill for the free square (amnesia) on my trope_bingo card.

Knowing the truth doesn't help as much as Phil had hoped. He still feels unmoored, lost with no safe port in sight. Phil has no destination in mind as he walks, but it's not a surprise when he ends up standing outside Clint Barton's apartment. Still going purely on instinct, he raises a hand and knocks. It takes less than a minute for the door to swing open and Clint's eyes widen in shock for a brief moment before it shifts into a blank mask – something that Phil now regrets teaching him. The reaction sparks doubt in Phil's mind and anger, deep and consuming, flares inside him. He brushes by Clint and storms into the apartment, waiting until the other man has closed and secured the door before rounding on him.

"Did you know?" Phil demands through gritted teeth. "Did you know what they were doing to me? Did you let them keep going even when I begged them to stop? Begged for them to let me die? Did you know? Don't lie to me."

Clint stares steadily back at Phil and his voice is devoid of emotion when he answers. "Considering that I thought you were dead until two minutes ago, I can honestly tell you that I have no idea what you're talking about."

"That's impossible."

"Three minutes ago, I would have told you that a dead man walking into your apartment and yelling at you for no reason was impossible." 

"No," Phil says with a disbelieving shake of his head. "You had to have known. You're level seven."

"I _was_ a level seven, back when I was still a SHIELD agent. I haven't been with SHIELD in months."

Clint looks like he wants to say more, but keeps whatever it is inside and Phil's anger is still burning too hot for him to think through the rest of Clint's response. "But you were still an agent when I… during my recovery. And you're my medical proxy." 

"In the event that a medical proxy is incapacitated or otherwise compromised, medical procedures and other necessary intervention may be authorized by the SHIELD senior staff."

"Damn it. Fury. You really didn't know?" Clint shakes his head and the confirmation drains the fight out of Phil, leaving him exhausted. "I didn't… I begged them to let me die, Clint. They didn't listen to me and now… now I don't know what I am or who to believe."

"When an agent is under duress or otherwise unable to provide consent, then a suitable proxy will–"

"Stop! Why the hell are you quoting regs at me?"

"Because it's the only thing keeping me from breaking your jaw right now."

Phil blinks. "You're angry with me."

"Fuck yes, I'm angry at you!" The mask slips for a split second, letting Phil see the rage underneath, and Clint takes a calming breath before continuing. "I understand that you're having some sort of existential crisis about being alive, but since you're not putting a bullet in your brain or jumping off the nearest bridge, I'm gonna guess that your second life ain't half bad. I have no idea what they did to you or why it suddenly has you questioning the results. Right now, I'm too busy being pissed off at you to care."

"W-why?"

"You've been alive all this time and you don't know why I'm upset that you never once thought it necessary to tell me?"

"I thought you knew."

"And you honestly believe that if I had known, this would be the first time we'd be seeing each other face-to-face? That I wouldn't have moved heaven and earth to be with you? Why are you even here? Why now?"

"I… I don't know. I think I needed to see someone I could trust."

"Did you ever care about me? You know what, don't answer that." Clint's mouth twists bitterly and he pulls open the door. "You've always said that actions mean more than words and after all these years, now I know. Guess all those promises you made to me weren't meant to be kept in the cold light of day."

"Clint, I don't..."

"Save it for someone who still cares. I'd really like for you to leave now."

Mind numb and body working on autopilot, Phil complies. He walks out into the hallway and the door shuts behind him with a finality that wraps around Phil's heart like a vice.

~^~

"What else did you change? How much did you fuck around in my head?" Phil demands as he strides into Fury's office. He hadn't meant to confront him this quickly, but Clint's words has left Phil shaken and desperate to understand why.

"Nothing, aside from Tahiti," Fury answers evenly. The director looks completely unfazed about Phil knowing the truth. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I just came back from Barton's apartment and he acted like there was a hell of a lot more involved than not knowing his former handler was alive."

"Wait. What?"

"Something Barton said implied that we had more than just a working relationship."

"Not that part. The part about Clint not knowing you're alive."

Phil glares at Fury. " _You_ didn't tell him."

"Of course I didn't tell him. It was hard enough convincing him to leave SHIELD and get clear of the WSC. He'd never have gone if he knew we were working on bringing you back. I assumed you'd go to him as soon as you were back on your feet. Are you telling me that he didn't know you were alive until today?"

"I was following orders. You told me not to speak to the Avengers."

"I didn't mean Barton and Romanov," Fury fires back. "Even if I did, I wouldn't actually expect you to listen to me."

"Why?"

"Because it's Barton."

"So there _was_ more going on between us."

"I don't know," Fury admits, pulling out his Starkpad and swiping through several screens. "Damn it. I told Romanov to stay out of it thinking you'd… She's gonna skewer me when she gets back."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

Fury turns his attention back to Phil. "There are things that the Director of SHIELD is better off not being aware of. You know the rules about agents in relationships, Phil."

"But you suspected?"

"Not necessarily. You guys were close, really close. It could have just been friendship or it could have been more. Like I said, I didn't dig, so I don't know."

Phil wants to scream in frustration. "Then do you know why I don't remember? None of it. Not even the friendship?"

"All I know is that we had to use an old brain scan to implant Tahiti," Fury replies without a trace of apology. "Back almost ten years."

"Before we recruited Clint into SHIELD."

"It's possible that's the cause, but it's all untested science. We may never know."

Some of his initial anger and disappointment comes back, but with none of the burning intensity from before. Maybe Clint's right and Phil isn't as upset about being kept alive as he once was or maybe he's now more focused on what else they'd inadvertently broken. "Have I told you how much I don't appreciate being your guinea pig?"

Fury shrugs. "You're alive."

"Not sure I can ever forgive you enough to thank you. Don't do it again."

"Don't make me have to."

~^~

"Fucking hell," Clint says when he opens the door. "I was really hoping I'd hallucinated you earlier."

Phil frowns. "You've been drinking. You don't drink."

Clint waves dismissively with the hand clutching a still mostly-full bottle of vodka as he turns his back on Phil and leaves him standing in the open doorway. "Extenuating circumstances."

Phil steps inside, shuts the door, and follows Clint into the living room. Clint places the bottle on the coffee table and sprawls in false casualness against one side of the couch, looking at Phil expectantly. 

"Right now, I'm wishing I'd had time for more than a few swigs. I have a feeling I'm still much too sober for the conversation we're about to have."

Phil sits on the other end of the couch, angling himself so he can look at Clint while he speaks.

"The procedure changed my memories. I don't remember you – _us_. If there was an us." When Clint only stares at him, Phil realizes that he never got the chance to tell Clint what he'd learned. "I was dead for days. I've been told that the pain was agonizing, enough that I asked… I begged for them to let me die. They implanted memories of Tahiti to cover up the pain."

"Tahiti? They gave you memories of a tropical paradise and what?" Clint asks, sitting up and leaning closer to Phil, looking appalled. "They erased your memories of me?"

"No, not intentionally. According to Fury, they had to use a brain scan from before you came to SHIELD to help implant the memory. It must have unexpectedly changed what I remember."

"From before… but you know who I am? Remember the missions and ops we ran together?"

"Yes, but not anything beyond SHIELD. You're not who I remember, so if we had a–"

"Whoa! What does that mean? Who _do_ you remember?"

Clint's eyes go cold and Phil has a feeling his life had been much more complicated than he ever imagined.

"A woman…"

"The cellist! Are you fucking kidding me?!" Clint jumps up suddenly, walking to the window and then turning back to Phil. "You said… you _promised_ me she was just like the others."

"The others? We were seeing other people?"

"We had to keep our relationship a secret or Fury wouldn't let us work ops together – we didn't trust our lives with anyone else. When people started to suspect, you suggested pretending to date other people. It was easy for me to fake a bunch of one-night-stands, but that didn't work for you. For a while, you told everyone the dates you went on didn't work out."

"How long were we together?"

Clint sighs. "Nearly five years."

"And we kept it a secret all that time?"

"We were careful and we'd had too many close calls when we had other people watching our backs. It wasn't easy, but it was important. We used to talk about coming clean one day, but there never seemed a right time. Then you met that cellist and you suddenly had someone you could take to dinner and attend the opera and all the things we talked about and never did. I knew you liked her, but I believed you when you said you never slept with her, that you still… _God._ How could I be so fucking stupid? Of course you fell in love with her."

Phil stands, but doesn't step any closer to Clint. "You don't know that I did. _I_ don't know that I did."

"You don't think the fact that you remember her, but not me, tells you something?" Phil has no answer and Clint slumps against the window. "I mean, I knew you'd find someone else someday, but this isn't how I expected it to– "

"Please don't," Phil interrupts. "Don't say something we'll both regret. I may not remember, but I know I wouldn't do that to you."

"Maybe not consciously."

Phil shakes his head. "I wouldn't have left it unsaid."

"Maybe you just never got the chance." Clint closes his eyes and drops his chin to his chest, his arms wrapped around himself protectively. He's silent for a long moment, and when he lifts his head, his words are not what Phil is expecting. "This could be your second chance. You should go find her. You deserve to be happy."

Phil can only gape in response. He watches as Clint straightens and forces an encouraging smile, ignoring his own heartache to do what he thinks is right. Phil realises that this selflessness must be part of why he once fell in love with Clint. The idea that Phil somehow chose to set it aside feels horribly wrong, but if Clint is right, then he deserves someone who isn't in love with someone else. 

Phil nods.

~^~

"Phil? Oh my god, what are you doing here?!"

Genevieve flings herself into his arms and Phil wraps them around her automatically. It doesn't feel right – off in the same way that so many other things have felt since he'd woken – to have this woman in his arms. Holding Geny does nothing to satisfy the longing in his heart. Phil doesn't love her and the relief he feels is so great that it leaves him dizzy.

"I know I said to stop by if you were ever in the area," Geny says and pulls away with a grin, "but I thought you'd call first."

"I…"

Something must show on his face because Geny is suddenly gripping Phil's arm and looking at him with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Not really. Do you mind if we sit?"

"Of course not. Let's go into the kitchen. I was just about to make some tea." Geny doesn't say anything else until they're settled at the kitchen table with steaming mugs of tea. "I have to admit that I'm surprised to see you. You let me down easy, but most people don't actually mean it when they say they want to stay friends."

"We broke it off?"

"There wasn't much there to break off. What's wrong, Phil?"

"I got injured and some things got muddled around in my head. I thought that maybe you and I…"

"Oh, Phil. I'm so sorry." Geny places her hand on Phil's arm and he's once again struck by how wrong it feels, that her hand is too small against his skin. "But I'm not the one you're looking for."

Phil's eyes snap up to meet hers. "You knew there was someone else?"

"You told me there was someone else. You apologized for leading me on, but like I said, there wasn't much between us to begin with aside from a few fun nights out. You never did anything except kiss me on the cheek. When you finally broke it off with me, it sounded like you were ready to finally take your relationship with her and make it something more permanent."

"Him," Phil corrects.

"Wow. Um… have you talked to him since your injury?"

"Yeah. It didn't go well. Muddled around may have been an understatement."

"Phil," Geny says kindly, "whatever your mind is telling you, I'm not the person you were in love with. I saw the look in your eyes when you thought of him and I can only wish I'll find someone someday that will feel the same way about me. That's not something you walk away from. If you're willing to take my advice, I say get your ass back on a plane and don't let him go again."

~^~

The door flies open before Phil can knock and he finds himself on the receiving end of Natasha's glare. He's too tired to say anything in his defense, knows that Natasha will draw her own conclusions and read everything she needs to know in his eyes and on his face.

"You have two hours," she says and slips past Phil, disappearing quickly and silently down the hall.

"Nat! What did you do with my…oh. Phil."

Clint comes around the corner wearing ratty jeans and an old purple hoodie. The sight stirs, not a memory, but a feeling of comfort and safety and home – he's safe here. His mind doesn't remember, but Phil's body seems to and he starts to shake from the struggle to remain where he's standing, yearning to reach out for something he no longer has a right to want.

"Phil? Are you okay?"

Clint steps closer and Phil gets a better view of the dark circles under his eyes, the lingering hurt in them, and the tense lines around his mouth. Phil's brain screams at him to leave – he has nothing to offer and his being here will only hurt Clint more – but he can't make himself move. He stands still as Clint comes to within arm's reach, knowing that the archer's keen eyes can see how Phil is trembling.

"Clint… _please._ " The words feel like they're coming from someone else and Phil isn't sure what it is that he's begging for.

But Clint, the man who loves him despite the mess his actions have put them in, still knows Phil and always knows exactly what he needs. Clint takes the last step between them, pulls Phil close, and wraps his strong arms around him, supporting Phil's weight easily when his knees buckle beneath him. Phil sinks into Clint with a sob because _this,_ this is what he's been longing for. After months of feeling like his skin is too small around him, of everything he touches feeling hopelessly wrong, being in Clint's arms is nothing but _right._

Clint maneuvers them to the couch, leaning against one of the arms so that Phil can lay along the length and still remain in his embrace. There's a gentle brush of lips along his temple and fingers smoothing back his hair urging Phil to relax, to let go. Phil doesn't realize that he's still shaking, his breath coming in short, panicked hiccups until Clint whispers soft words to calm him.

"It's okay, Phil. Shhhhh. It'll be okay. I'm here. You're safe. I'm here…"

~^~

Phil surfaces slowly from a deep sleep, struggling futilely against wakefulness. The sheets are warm around him, their scent comforting and familiar. Fingers stroke through his hair and Phil leans into the touch, even as he burrows deeper into his pillow and closes his eyes a little tighter. Phil hears a quiet huff of amusement and smiles.

"I know you're waking up and _you_ know that never works."

"Mmm… Clint," Phil mumbles, hands unconsciously reaching for his warmth. "Five more minutes."

Instead of bare skin, Phil's fingers find soft cotton and his eyes fly open. Clint is sitting on top of the covers fully dressed in sleep pants and another hoodie. It startles Phil into full alertness, bringing him back to the present and making him gasp in pain. He closes his eyes again and curls into himself, chasing the feeling of happiness that had enveloped him a moment before. It's useless.

Clint's fingers are back in his hair, soothing him silently until Phil has enough control to take a shuddering breath and look up. Clint's eyes are sad, resigned, but he smiles for Phil anyway.

"I'm guessing that means you didn't suddenly get your memories back?" Phil shakes his head, not trusting his voice enough to speak and Clint sighs. "We should probably talk like actual adults. I'll let you get dressed, the towels are in the usual–"

"No, wait!" Phil reaches out in a panic, grabbing Clint's wrist when he begins to move off the bed. "Please, don't go. I know it's a lot to ask, but I… Can you please just hold me? I can't explain, but I need… It's the only thing that feels–"

"Shhhh, it's okay." Clint resettles back against the headboard and opens his arms for Phil to slip into. Phil wraps his arms tight around Clint's waist and rests his cheek against his chest, Clint's heart beating steadily under his ear. He doesn't want to lose this. 

"You know this doesn't actually fix anything, right?" Clint asks after a while. "I know you're still reeling from everything that's happened and I want to help comfort you, but I... It may feel good for you to be here, but you don't actually know why and I'm not sure how much of this I can handle and not go insane."

"I _want_ to remember you."

"I believe you," Clint says in a way that sounds too much like defeat to Phil's ears. "But I talked to Fury while you were gone and it's likely you'll never remember. He told me everything that happened, everything they did to you. I saw the video footage and I… I'm not going to try and second-guess or defend what they did. I can't say what I would have done if I'd been there, knowing the outcome. No amount of what-ifs changes how things are now. You're alive and you have your second chance. You're building a new life and I have to understand that you don't need me to be a part of it."

"No!" Phil retorts, pulling back so can look Clint in the eye. "You're wrong. I do need you. I have all along."

"Come on, Phil. It's been months. Without your memories, I'm nothing but another agent. I get it. You have your new team, your new assignment, and there isn't room for me, not anymore. It's better if we make a clean break."

"I don't want any kind of break."

"That's because you don't remember there being a relationship to begin with. It's possible that this is what you wanted all along."

Phil shakes his head vehemently. "It's not. I told Geny that I wanted to make things more permanent with you."

He doesn't expect for Clint's eyes to flash with pain before he looks away. "Maybe you changed your mind."

"Don't put memories in my head that don't belong there."

"I'm trying to be a sensible, mature adult about this."

"Well stop, because it's not helping."

"Fuck you, Phil," Clint spits, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. "You have no idea what it was like to mourn you when nobody else knew what you meant to me. I was finally learning to come to terms with it and then you came back, but it only got worse. I don't know how much more of this I can take. You weren't the only one hurt in all of this."

Phil reaches out and grabs each of Clint's shoulders in his hands, needing the contact. "I know and I'm sorry. But you need to know that nothing since I woke up has felt right and I've been searching all this time for why. Getting a new team didn't help, neither did learning the truth about Tahiti. The only thing that feels right is this – being here with you. I've been trying to wrap my head around all of this and I think I have a theory."

"You do? Of course you do."

"They say the pain was excruciating and psychological scars were deep. Tahiti was an attempt to fix that. Even now, without my memories, the thought of losing you is physically painful. When they took the rest of the pain, I think they accidentally took you with it."

"That's… quite a stretch," Clint says skeptically.

"Maybe. It's all I have and it helps explain why I still feel everything even if I can't remember why. Before I saw you, it was just a nagging sense that I'd lost something important, that there was something missing. I didn't know what it was until I saw you. It wasn't Geny, I've proven that. It's you. It was always you and I'm sorry it took me so long to come back to you."

"Jesus, Phil. How do you know that's enough? I'm not sure I can keep going through this."

"I _don't_ know. I've hurt you – no matter how inadvertently – both before and after. It's awful and selfish and arrogant of me to believe that you love me enough try again, but it's what I'm asking you to do. No more hiding. No more promises made in the dark. No more regrets. I loved you once and I swear to you I will love you again. Just give me that chance."

Clint closes his eyes and takes several long breaths before opening them again. A corner of his mouth lifts, a ghost of his usual smirk. "You know I kind of hate you sometimes, right?"

"I know," Phil sighs, his shoulders sagging with relief. 

"What if it doesn't work this time around? What if–"

Phil gives Clint's shoulders a shake. "Stop buying trouble. We'll take it one step at a time, one day at a time. Neither of us are the same people we were eight years ago when we first met. This may work, it may not. But I'm not giving you up without a fight."

"I'm pretty sure the me from eight years ago would have just broken your jaw and not have stuck around for any explanations."

"Then I'm glad you're now a mature and sensible adult." Clint rolls his eyes and Phil lets himself smile.

"I still really want to take a swing at you though and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna feel that way for a while still, even if I know this isn't your fault. Natasha may also stab you – just a little."

"Noted," Phil says and sits back, dropping his hands from Clint's shoulders. It aches to lose the contact, but it's easier knowing he'll get more chances later. "And I think more fault lays with me than you're willing to see. I should never have let it go on as long as I did. You deserved to be more than a well-kept secret."

"You weren't alone in keeping us a secret," Clint shrugs. "But okay, I'm in. I'm willing to try this again. So what now? We can't exactly date like regular people."

"One step at a time remember? For now we get dressed and we go for breakfast. Then we'll figure out how to get you reinstated into SHIELD."

"I'm down with breakfast, but why do I need to rejoin SHIELD? I'm an Avenger now and a consultant for Stark Industries. Stark pays much better than SHIELD."

"Well for starters, we could always use a backup pilot for the Bus."

"You let someone else fly the Bus?!"

Clint grouses all the way to and through breakfast, only slightly tempered when he learns it's Agent May at the controls. It feels normal and the last wisps of doubt clear from Phil's mind. He's not naive enough to believe this is their last hurdle, far from it, but sunlight streams warm and bright through the windows, highlighting Clint's familiar features, and Phil lets himself be happy.

~ _fin_ ~


End file.
